


lioness

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dark, F/F, Kidnapping, Lesbian Sex, Master/Servant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: you get captured by the most powerful army after failing to flee their wrath. the queen decides to keep you as an act of mercy, but to you it’s an exercise of her power.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118





	lioness

**Author's Note:**

> done for @fvckingavengers ‘s quarantine challenge! my prompt was ‘strange love’ by halsey

Natasha sits in a large, golden throne with deep red velvet forming a plush seat and something to rest her back on. Dressed in her formal, silken gown, with her fire-red hair and makeup done to absolute perfection, she looks like the archetype one pictures when one hears the word “monarch.” A strict ruler, she mercilessly commands her army to take whatever land she so pleases. Sometimes she perceives these lands as possible threats, other times she’s just bored. Either way, she always gives direction that includes the plundering of riches and looting of treasures.

Today, that includes you.

Trapped in a cage with your arms and legs bound as to keep you on your back, you’re presented to her in the dirty clothes you were kidnapped in. The previous hour she had been attending a meeting about crop rotation, a horrendously boring subject that had Natasha’s eyes glazing over and back slumped. As the royal spots you, though, helpless and scared, she perks up.

“And what is this?” She asks, fingers with long, pointed nails poking through the holes in the enclosure. _“Hello, little thing_ ,” she coos. You don’t move for fear of retribution. “ _What a cutie you are…”_

One of the guards, a muscular and gruff man, clears his throat. “She, uh,” he coughs again. “We found her in a village we thought was abandoned.”

Natasha’s eyebrows furrow as she traces random patterns on your cold skin. “The one just outside the far-east forest?”

“Yes,” another guard confirms.

“Hm,” is all Natasha says back. For a moment she just stares at your shaking form, smoothing down your eyebrows with her thumb. “Take her to my chambers. I want her cleaned and dressed before I retire for the evening,” she tells one of the ladies’ maids. “Understood?”

“Yes, your highness,” she mutters, before directing the men who carry you into another large room filled with marble statues and grand paintings of flora. There, you’re thoroughly bathed and dressed in a sheer pink slip that barely covers your chest or ass. Another ladies’ maid instructs you to sit in the middle of the bed, legs folded under you with your hands palm-down and your back erect.

Petrified of all the possible punishments for not doing as you’re told, you abide by their commands. The position, while uncomfortable, seems to soothe the nervous energy in the air. Just as your spine gets tired of holding the rest of you up, they flee the room in a rushed, disorganized line. You don’t look up for fear of repercussions, but as a sea of footsteps and thick cloud of hushed voices becomes quieter and quieter a single pair of crisp steps can be singled out among them.

The first thing you can see are heeled feet. They’ve got rounded toes and look to be suede, the black fabric standing out against pale skin.

“You may look up,” a voice says, one you recognize. It’s the woman from the throne.

You recoil as your eyes meet, your body curling in on itself to protect whatever you can. You whisper, “ _Queen Natasha.”_

“Yes, my pet?” She purrs, grabbing your chin and forcing your eyes to meet hers.

Your voice feels like a ball of sand stuck in your vocal cords, and none of your nervous swallowing seems to be able to dislodge it. “I..I um.”

The queen smirks. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve been known to leave many a cutie speechless.”

You don’t try to speak again, terrified of what would escape your lips.

“I’m a very busy woman, Pet,” she says, stepping near-silently to the other side of the room. “I am a very busy _, stressed_ woman. And stress can lead to a lot of bad things regarding one’s health.”

She takes a pause near her nightstand, grabbing the decanter and pouring herself a hearty glass of red wine. As she takes a sip it reminds you of blood.

“Did you know it can also make you wrinkle?” Natasha scrunches her nose. “Wrinkle! Me! It’s simply absurd.”

She puts the glass back down.

“Anyway, this is where you come in, Pet. I need to make sure there are no adverse effects of my reign onto my body.”

Natasha sits down in the deep burgundy chair, her hair blending into the fabric as she watches you.

“Come here,” she says simply, crooking a single finger. “Come to me.”

You nod, shaking as you try to rise to your feet – but are stopped before you can fully stand up.

“No, _crawl_.”

You can’t help but fall to your knees without hesitation, moving towards her as they and your hands meet the cold stone ground.

She watches you with eagle eyes the whole way, staring at you as you stop awkwardly in front of her.

Natasha pulls at the wide skirts, leaving enough room for another person under them.

 _Oh_ , you realize. _You’re the other person._

With body shaking you nudge forward, only stopping when your nose brushes against the silk of her underthings. They’re simple, easily pulled down.

Part of you is feels you’re lucky it’s dark, blinding you from shame and the stare of your captor.

It’s not that you’ve never done this before, or that you’ve forgotten how to. There were plenty of mornings you went to the fields bone-tired because of nights spent in the barn with the other servant girls, their nightdresses hiked up their marked-up stomachs and stuffed in their pretty mouths to keep them quiet.

But you’d never been in the presence of royalty before, and suddenly anxiety surrounding your performance was joining the blood in your veins.

You hear the muffled voice of the woman in question, though her disappointment rings loud and clear.

“I’m not going to tell you again, Pet. Hurry up.”

You do as you’re told, moving to leave light, long licks against her soaked folds. Even through the fabric you can hear Natasha’s soft pants as you press your mouth against the most sensitive part of her, bringing one hand from the floor to tease against her opening.

A single finger easily finds its home inside of her wetness, another quickly sinking into her. Your other hand moves to her lower stomach, keeping her clit exposed to the cool air surrounding you.

She shivers a little, but nearly vibrates as you suck at the centermost part of her.

“God and Heavens above,” you hear her moan above you. It encourages you, drives you to insert another finger. “Oh Lord it’s been so long…”

Natasha trails off as you continue, stroking that special spot inside of her and feeling her tense under you. She’s close so quickly you fear you’ve done something wrong – like you should prolong the experience.

“Don’t stop!” the queen screams as if she can read your mind. “If you stop, I’ll behead you can keep you an example for the next captured girl!”

So, you don’t. You take her clit into your mouth once more and swipe your tongue over it in rhythmic strokes, timing it with the movement of your fingers.

Natasha hands move the heavy skirts to the side to grab as your hair, pushing you impossibly closer to her as she ruts against your face.

She comes with a moan, using her legs to keep you pressed against her sweet cunt as the aftershocks of pleasure roll through her. It takes awhile for her to let go, to slump against the large, gold-leafed chair.

It takes an even longer while for her catch her breath and let go of your hair, looking down at you with glassy eyes.

You gaze up from between the woman’s legs, face covered in her juices and dilated pupils begging for praise. If you had any dignity before, it surely is gone as she cradles your face with delicate hands.

“You will be very useful to me during my reign,” she tells you, tracing over your features as you swallow nervously. “Very, _very_ useful.”


End file.
